


you make me feel

by taxingme



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Frottage, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multi, Oral Sex, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-05-30 08:58:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15093467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taxingme/pseuds/taxingme
Summary: Dylan squeezes Jack’s arm. Jack opens his eyes again, not even realising he’d let them slip shut. “We’re saying you should call us when your heat hits.”





	you make me feel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eafay70](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eafay70/gifts).



> eafay70 - I hope you enjoy this!! this isn't exactly one of your prompts but I tried to include as many of your likes as I could :)) p.s I've never written A/B/O and I've never even really read it that much??? so uh, I hope this is done right and that it nails what you like about the trope!! 
> 
> I don't think there are any consent issues with this fic but I know people are sensitive to that especially with this kind of fic so please let me know if I should alter my tags in any way!!

Dylan’s the one to approach him about it. 

It’s two weeks before the start of the World Cup and Jack is one week out from his heat. He’s been in Toronto for a few days already, getting used to the city and fixing up a hotel room. He can get a little, jumpy, leading up to his heat and he needs to make his space perfect. Last night he spent two hours rearranging pillows. After he got the last one right he made a little noise, something close to a _purr_ , and settled in for the night with a proud glow. He messed them up in the night and didn’t have time to fix them before heading into the gym. 

His skin itches whenever he thinks about it. 

So, he’s working his ass off not to think about it. He’s doing pullups, one after the other over and over again, because it’s distracting and because he made a bet with Noah and he wants to win. He’s got a Buffalo shirt and old, tatty USA shorts on; his skin is prickling with sweat and he knows he’s as red as a tomato. He’s aware it’s not his best look. But working out isn’t for picking up (even if he has got a number or two from people he’s met at gyms) and he doesn’t care about it. But also – this close to his heat? Jack doesn’t have to look good. Anyone who wants him is going to like his scent right now, the tang of sweat masking his usual sweet scent.

And then in comes Dylan fucking Strome. 

He’s not on the North America roster – for obvious reasons – and Jack’s not feeling particularly generous or sympathetic towards him right now. Before they met Jack pegged Dylan as a fellow omega, assumed he was happy to sit on McDavid’s knot all the time and didn’t really care anymore about him. Well, that’s not the whole truth. Dylan can move the puck and score like nobody’s business and Jack watched his hockey with a sharp eye whenever he guilt tripped himself with McDavid highlights. But then, they did meet and he’s just a beta. Which meant Jack didn’t have to trip over Canadian sensibilities pretending to care about omega solidarity or whatever other bullshit. 

So, when Dylan comes to a stop in front of Jack he doesn’t acknowledge him with anything more than a nod. They’re not friends or teammates or anything. Besides, Jack is trying to concentrate. He can feel sweat beading down his face and his arms are burning. He drops down from above the bar – long past counting how many his done or even doing his best form – and squints at Dylan. Because, well. Dylan is definitely checking him out. He’s not even trying to be subtle, his eyes are roaming all over Jack’s body – slow and steady as he takes in Jack’s arms and the ‘v’ of sweat forming from Jack’s neck. Jack pulls up and Dylan flushes, cheeks flaming red, as Jack lifts himself up over the bar one last time. 

Jack lowers himself to the floor, careful to make sure he doesn’t sway from exhaustion. Just because he’s a beta doesn’t mean Dylan won’t be a dick about the whole omega thing. Anyone who isn’t a beta tends to get overly concerned when faced with any kind of omega who looks uncomfortable. Jack’s trying very hard not to be bitter. 

“What exactly are you doing there?” Jack asks. Strome isn’t doing anything wrong but, he keeps looking at Jack and Jack’s too close to his heat to pretend it’s not having and effect on him. Strome isn’t hot – not like Noah – but he is something. And along with being picky about pillows and an extra intense scent, Jack gets beyond horny. And flustered. A guy like Dylan paying attention to him while he works out is too much to even think about. 

“I’m watching you work out. Your arms are, _wow_ , dude. Out of the fucking ball park,” Dylan says with a grin. He mimes a home run hit, lifting his hand up over his eyes to watch his imaginary ball. Even if Jack’s not super into the guy, he can’t help preening under the attention.

“Uh, thanks, I guess? I’m going to… keep working out,” Jack says, pausing because he’s not sure what to do right now. Bad flirting is still flirting. He can’t help being charmed right now. 

“Cool, mind if I watch? I can spot if you need?” Dylan says, tongue firmly in cheek. His eyes are glinting in the artificial light of the gym and there’s a smile in the corner of his lips. Jack has no desire to kiss him. Not one fucking bit. 

He nods, not trusting himself to speak, and heads over towards the leg press. He stacks the weight on one side and Dylan copies him on the other. Jack wishes it didn’t make his heart flutter. He squashes it down, a bro helping in the gym doesn’t mean anything. Even with the flirting it’s still harmless. Jack knows that Dylan isn’t McDavid’s omega now but it doesn’t mean they’re not fucking. He’s pretty sure they are. McDavid’s scent is strong – woody and intense – and Dylan reeks of it. 

Once the weight is on, Jack settles in to get started. He’s exhausted because of all the pullups, his plan was to stop after them, but Dylan surprised him and the idea of being naked after the attention was too much to bear. So it’s hard work getting his legs to cooperate. Dylan murmurs encouragement and praise the whole time. It helps Jack work out but it does nothing for the low pool of arousal simmering deep in his gut. Jack grits his teeth for his last set. Dylan refuses to shut up. Jack is mortified by the effect it’s having, he feels sorry for any other omegas and alphas in here who can smell him. There’s only so much sweat can mask.

“Dude, can you please shut the fuck up for one second?” Jack asks, eyes closed as he collapses back into the machine. He lets his legs drop to the floor, thighs spread wide as they tremble from exertion. Jack’s not modest enough to pretend he doesn’t want Dylan to look. His shorts are so old they’re barely holding it together – sitting like this, the worn material is struggling to encompass both his thighs and his hardening cock. Jack wishes he hated the feeling more. 

“Shit. Connor wasn’t joking – you really are easy for this shit.”

Jack’s eyes fly open. Dylan’s eyes are trained on Jack’s legs, or maybe his dick, Jack can’t tell. “What the fuck did you just say?” 

Dylan shrugs, glancing up before looking back down (it’s his cock, Dylan is definitely looking at his cock). Jack doesn’t know how many gyms there are in Toronto but there are only so many he trusts. This is one of them. It also happens to be where McDavid works out. They’ve barely talked since Jack got here. They exchanged some words about working out and the upcoming tournament and what Matthews is like; they didn’t talk about the draft or their seasons in the NHL or about McDavid being an alpha and him being an omega. Jack’s been trying to ignore him for the most part. Playing with him (under him, Connor of course got the C) is going to be weird enough. 

Especially because of how Jack is right now. Jack knows he can’t help it. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have to deal with the consequences of it. He loves hockey and he wouldn’t give it up for the world but some guys can be real assholes about him being an omega. Or they’re nice in the wrong way. Not realising, or not caring, how easily they can get under Jack’s skin before a heat. Jack didn’t want it to be like that with McDavid. 

“He’s just been watching you a bit, not in, like, a weird creepy way. More in a ‘I want to get to know him but he hates me kind of way’ and he said you were real easy for compliments right now.”

Jack grinds his teeth. Fuck that guy. “Just because he’s an alpha doesn’t mean he can say that shit. Fuck both of you.” Jack gets up from the machine, pushing down everything he’s feeling. He wants to have a shower and go back to the hotel. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Woah, hey –“ Dylan says, reaching out and grabbing Jack’s arm just above his elbow. Jack shudders into the touch. He hasn’t been letting people touch him because it becomes too much. His whole body too sensitive to have a normal reaction. “He wasn’t saying it to be a dick. And neither am I.”

“Than how are you saying it?” Jack tries to keep a steady voice but he can feel himself unravelling. He’s sure he’s reading this wrong but, Dylan hasn’t let go yet. He’s been flirting since he walked in the gym and he hasn’t looked at anyone besides Jack. 

Dylan squeezes Jack’s arm. Jack opens his eyes again, not even realising he’d let them slip shut. “We’re saying you should call us when your heat hits.”

***

A week later, Jack can feel his heat prickling at the edges. It’s so close he can taste his own scent in the back of his throat, sweet and thick like honey; his skin itches and he can barely stomach wearing clothes, the brush of fabric too much to bear on his sensitive skin; and he’s so turned on he can’t _think_. When he focusses all he can think about is the look in Dylan’s eyes when he said “you should call us” and the way Dylan reeked of Connor. 

He can’t go to the gym anymore. He can’t even really leave the hotel room, too many scents to distract him from the simple things and is own scent to strong to risk it. No one would hurt him but it’s hard to say no to alphas when he’s like this. 

He jerks off all the time. He tries thinking about nothing, or only about alphas he’s been with before, but his mind wanders. He remembers Dylan’s long fingers and wonders how they would feel against his dick, he thinks about what it would be like for the two of them to overwhelm him, use him again and again while he begged for more. 

The room reeks, of his come and his scent. Jack can’t breathe anymore. 

Jack can’t do it alone this time. He sits up on the bed and swings his legs over the side, hunching over to rest his elbows on his knees. “Fuck it,” he mumbles, reaching for his phone. There’s come drying on his stomach and his leg is jumping up and down against the floor. Dylan barely gets out the beginning of ‘hello’ before Jack interrupts him: “You need to come pick me up. Now.”

***

Jack’s heat hits five minutes after getting in the car. He remembers gritting his teeth and telling Dylan to “hurry the fuck up,” and not much else. He spends the elevator ride up to Connor and Dylan’s apartment tucked under Dylan’s arm with his face against Dylan’s chest and his cock pressed up against Dylan’s hip. He remembers Dylan telling him to wait. 

Connor is holding the door open for them. Dylan gently shoves Jack into him. Jack barely waits for the door to shut behind him to kiss Connor. Connor’s caught off guard for a moment and then, the kiss turns feral. Their teeth clash before Connor tilts his head and opens his mouth properly. He bites and licks and sucks until Jack is even more of a sweating, dripping mess. Jack pulls back and pants. The room reeks. Jack’s scent is rolling off of him in waves, even more intense with his slick dripping down the backs of his thighs. His underwear is ruined. Hell, his pants are ruined. Connor’s scent is also filling the room, it reminds Jack of building things with his dad. Freshly cut timber and the varnish that’s used to cover it. 

Jack can’t get enough of it. 

He shuts his eyes and rolls his hips into Connor. Connor grunts and shoves a leg – thick, solid muscle – between Jack’s thighs. Jack moans and presses down harder. His legs are shaking with the effort to hold himself up but he’s not going to stop now. Connor murmurs encouraging words that Jack can’t be bothered to make out. Jack tips his head back against the wall, hoping that Connor will take the invitation. He does. Jack comes as soon as Connor presses his nose against the thin skin there. He whines, collapsing against the wall. 

“Holy shit,” he hears Dylan say from somewhere behind them. Jack wants to flip him off but he doesn’t care enough to bother.

“I know, fuck. I didn’t – I didn’t realise how easy it would be.”

Jack’s floating on endorphins. They won’t last long before he needs to go again but his eyes fly open when Connor says that. “Have neither of you done this before?”

“Well,” Connor says flushing. Or maybe his skin was already that red but his eyes twitch and he looks shifty. “We’ve had sex together, obviously. But uh, we’ve never, with an omega. Ever.”

“Fuck me.”

“That’s the idea, dude,” Dylan quips. This time Jack does flip him off. 

“It’s fine, we know what we’re doing. Bedroom?” Dylan nods at Jack’s legs where they’re tangled with Connor’s. “That can’t be comfortable.” 

Jack pulls a face. At this point he’s not sure if he’s going to be able to get his underwear off. They’re stuck to his body, sweat and come and slick plastering them against his skin. Connor steps back, letting Jack stand up on his own. He moves like he’s going to step back and Jack reaches out to grab his arm. “Stay with me, I’m not going to make it to your room alone.” 

Dylan huffs a laugh out before beckoning them down the hall. Jack squirms as Connor leads him; it’s so uncomfortable to walk he considers pushing his sweats down. And to make it worse, he’s starting to feel desperate again. Even with Connor’s hand on him he’s losing focus. To distract himself he looks at the decorations in the hallway but either this place is too new to decorate or neither of them know what they’re doing. Jack’s betting on the second one. 

The bedroom door is about half way down the hall, Dylan waits for Connor to lead Jack in before walking in himself. The room is a mess. There’s clothes all over the floor and the bed doesn’t look like it’s ever been made. Jack can’t help snorting. Connor tells him to shut up before leading him to the bed. Jack’s still wearing a smile when Connor lets go of him. Immediately, he whines. He can’t help himself, he wants so much and he _needs_ an alpha’s touch. 

“Shh, hey, I know I’m not as good but give him a second,” Dylan says, crouching down in front of Jack. Once he gets Jack’s shirt off, Jack falls back against the bed. Connor is getting naked on the other side. All Jack can focus on is his scent. The two of their scents are mingling here in the smaller room, honey and wood overlapping until Jack can’t smell anything else. Jack breathes through his mouth, he wants to taste it. He wants to lick and such and taste Connor more than he’s want anything else. 

He watches Connor undress – stripping off his shirt quickly and efficiently before hesitating, then pushing his sweats down the same way. Jack sucks in a deep breath. It figures that Connor would have a pretty dick. Jack makes another noise and stretches out a hand towards him. He whines again when he realises he can’t reach – he just wants to touch. 

Dylan’s mouth breaks through the fog. Jack’s head jerks to look at him – he’s still crouched between Jack’s legs on the floor but since Jack stopped watching he managed to strip himself and Jack naked, and now has his mouth on Jack’s dick. Dylan smirks with his mouth still full and sucks more into his mouth. He’s desperate for it, it helps that Dylan knows what he’s doing. Slick is dripping out of him again and Jack spares a moment to feel bad about ruining their sheets. 

But – damn. Dylan’s mouth. 

Jack cries out when he comes again. Heat or not, two orgasms this close together is the wrong side of too much. Dylan kisses him and Jack sinks into it. Dylan smells like him now, two orgasms worth of come in his mouth. They keep kissing, Jack feels Connor sit down on the bed, but they don’t stop. They keep at it until Jack is panting into them, cock getting hard again between them. 

“Fuck, I can’t believe you can keep going. What do you want to do next?” Dylan directs his question at Connor but Jack’s the one to answer.

“One of you should fuck me,” Jack says. The two of them have done enough for him to stay calm for now but he’s going to need it soon. Being in heat isn’t about orgasms. It’s about breeding and fucking. Jack can only do one of those things now and he damn well wants to get fucked good. 

“Right, uh, okay. We can do that. Um – give us a few,” one of them says. 

Jack’s past caring now. He lets them rearrange him to their liking – on his hands and knees in the middle of the bed while they get themselves sorted. Jack settles down on his shoulders, presenting his ass and freeing a hand to play with his cock. Dylan swears under his breath. Jack smiles a little at that, it’s good to know he looks good to someone who isn’t genetically predisposed to want to fuck him right now. Jack lets his thoughts drift while he waits for them to figure it out. When he comes back to himself, Connor has arranged himself in a mountain of pillows leaning against the headboard and Dylan is somewhere behind him on the bed. 

Connor taps his nose and Jack lifts his head off the bed. “So, Dylan is going to go first and you can blow me for a bit, then when he’s done I’ll go. Good?”

Jack nods, not even caring how dumb or eager he looks. Connor smiles down at him, indulgent as anything, and ducks down to kiss him. Jack relaxes into it and it’s almost a surprise when Dylan pushes a finger in.

“Holy shit, dude, you’re so _wet_ ,” he says. Jack’s still trying to think of a response when he says: “Can I already put another one in?” Jack whines and nods, dropping back into the bed. He can feel the second finger more but he is really wet. He probably doesn’t even need this. 

“Fuck, fuck. Stop,” Jack pants. They both immediately stop. Connor looks like he’s about to ask what’s wrong. Jack shakes his head in the mattress. “Just, you don’t have to do this part. Just fuck me already.”

It is Dylan’s turn to whine this time. He swears again and then pulls his fingers out. Then, there’s a crinkle of foil and the sound of a condom being rolled on. Jack arches his back more. Dylan taps him on the ass gently. Jack wiggles into the touch. Dylan giggles and then there’s the blunt press of his dick at Jack’s entrance. Jack takes a deep breath. Taking a dick with no prep is easy when he’s in heat, he just wants to feel every inch of it. 

Dylan’s dick is long, it’s not as thick as other guys, it’s probably not even as thick as Connor but, _fuck_ , it feels good inside him. Jack shudders and collapses into the bed. Connor rubs a hand over his shoulder, soothing and gentle. Dylan’s cock is a direct contrast – his thrusts are short, sharp and brutal. It’s unfair how quickly he finds Jack’s prostate and once he finds it, he doesn’t stop. Jack gasps with every thrust. Everything else fades away and all Jack can think about is Dylan’s cock. 

Dylan shoves in hard and grinds his cock against Jack’s prostate. Jack makes a noise from the back of his throat, honest and embarrassing, before coming all over himself and the bed. It’s no less sweet for being the third orgasm in under an hour. Both of them stop and wait for him to come out of his come-dumb haze. 

Jack blinks away tears and looks up at Connor, chin resting on the bed. “You good?” he asks. Jack smiles, feeling like he’s flying. Jack shuffles up, keeping Dylan deep inside him, but moving closer to Connor. Jack shoves his face in the crease of Connor’s thigh. Connor’s scent has a deeper tang here, a sharper undercut to the timber. Jack drinks it in, shoving his face in deeper. 

“Fucking hell, Eichs,” Connor breathes out. Jack nips the skin in response and then pulls back to suck the head of Connor’s cock into his mouth. The taste is overwhelming. Jack moans, deep and guttural, and slides his mouth down further. Connor flails above him, hands flying up from the bed, before settling in Jack’s curls. Jack relaxes his throat and takes all of Connor in; he hasn’t done this in a long time and he’s forgotten how much he loves it. 

Jack whines when Dylan starts thrusting again. It’s too much and not enough. Everything about it is intense, he loses himself in the blowjob, letting Connor push his head down and thrust into his throat but then Dylan will hit that sweet spot again and all he can think about is being fucked. He’s wet everywhere. He’s covered in sweat, his body overheated from his heat and the exertion, there’s slick dripping down his ass and thighs and there’s come all over his cock and balls and belly. He’s already so close to coming again.

Before he can, Dylan grunts and finishes inside him, Jack chokes on Connor’s dick and has to pull off to breathe. Then – there’s nothing. All of a sudden he remembers, Dylan is a _beta_. Jack chokes out a curse, tears welling in his eyes. He feels Dylan pull out with a noise that would embarrass Jack at any other time. Then he looks up at Connor, sees how open and wide his eyes are, breathes in his heady scent. 

“Your turn.”

Connor curses and then pushes Jack out of the way. Dylan flops down on the bed besides Jack. They share a look – Jack’s eyes taking in his flushed cheeks and heaving chest – before they kiss. It’s cut short when Connor thrusts inside him. Jack gasps and melts into the bed. Connor only thrusts a couple of times before Jack is coming all over himself, _again_. Connor doesn’t stop fucking him. Jack’s a gasping, crying mess when he comes back to himself. Connor’s dick is thick and blunt inside him. Counteracting it, is Dylan, rubbing his hand in smooth circles on Jack’s back. 

“Jack, Jack. Are you listening?” Connor asks. Jack mumbles back something incoherent. “You want my knot? Do you want me to do that?”

“Yes, yes, _please_. Yes,” Jack says, the words punched out of him with each thrust. 

Connor hisses between his teeth as he comes. Jack wishes he could feel it properly. And then – Connor’s knot starts to grow. Jack whines as it stretches him. There’s no better feeling in the world than this. He collapses onto the bed, stretched as wide as he can with Connor still inside him. As he moves, Connor’s knot moves with him. Connor keeps making these little noises, surprised like he can’t believe what’s happening. 

“Shit, dude, have you ever done this before?” Jack’s voice slurs as he talks but he’s pretty sure Connor understood him. 

“Not, uh, not inside someone. It’d hurt Dylan.”

Jack snorts, or something close to it. They rearrange themselves more comfortably while they wait for it to come down. The two of them end up spooning with Jack facing Dylan. Once he moves Jack realises how close he is to coming again. His dick is red and throbbing. 

“Speaking of hurting, that looks painful, dude,” Dylan says. Jack shrugs noncommittal. Heats aren’t ever really comfortable and coming constantly for two days might sound good but there’s limits even for an omega. Dylan shifts his hand towards Jack, hesitating and waiting for Jack’s nod of approval to touch. His hand almost is too much. Jack backs away from it, only succeeding in pushing Connor’s knot in further. Connor groans, clamping a hand on Jack’s hip to keep him still. 

It’s a combination of Dylan’s hand on his cock and Connor’s on his hip that makes him come again. There’s not much to it, his entire body wrung out from what it’s already been through today. Jack feels himself drifting off. Dylan tells him how hot he is again. Jack sleepily agrees with him. He can hear Dylan jerking off, the unique sound of skin on skin and breathy gasps. 

Jack likes knowing that he’s making desperate to come to. Well, he likes it until he feels Dylan’s come splashing on his belly. “Dude,” he protests weakly. “I’m filthy enough.”

“Shh,” Connor says, rubbing soothing patterns on his hip. “We’ll clean you up. You need to rest.” 

***

Jack’s heat ends after two days of non-stop orgasms. It’s like a bucket of ice cold water being poured over his entire body. The need to be filled is over. They wring out one last orgasm, Jack riding Dylan’s cock slow and steady. He’s raw after two days of it and there’s barely any slick left so every thrust is a long, rough slide that makes Jack gasp. Connor finishes him off with his hand and Jack licks his fingers clean. The bed isn’t big enough for all three of them, not really. Jack ends up in the middle, Dylan curved around his back and Connor facing him. He’s suffocating under the warmth of the blanket and two bodies but –

He sighs, happy and content. Even if he is too hot, there’s nowhere else he wants to be.

**Author's Note:**

> i'll add my hockey tumblr after reveals!


End file.
